My fantasy
by Paulslove
Summary: A young beatles fan finds herself in a fantasy with her favorite boys. She has trouble figuring out if its real life or just a dream. Warnings: Depression and sexual content
1. chapter 1

There I was, sitting on my bed and staring at my poster that I had bought a year ago for the millionth time. It was of the boys standing on the rooftop in 1969 as they played their last performance as a group. Paul's beard was always so attractive in that photo of him. The thoughts of wanting to meet my favorite band was once again wrecking havoc on my imagination. The things I would say, the way I would say them, and in to which Beatle. Of course in my imagination they had all the reactions and replys that I wanted it to be. A whole conversation going my way between Paul and I was playing in my mind as I began to get ready for bed. I slipped out of the days outfit and put on a thin white shirt with comfortable grey pajama bottoms. Usually I preferred sleeping in the nude but that night I had young relatives sleeping over and the thought of them barging in at any moment made me rethink my sleeping arrangements. Turning on my fan and finally laying down, I pulled the covers over me and thought, "What I would give to know you, Paul."

I smiled and somewhat laughed at how ridiculous I was to even think of such things. To think of meeting all of them before and during their prime. But I wanted it to be true so bad, with every part of me. I wanted to know if all the things I had imagined were as good in real life. However, deep down I knew that they weren't. Reading how the boys had treated their families and wives broke my heart. They were just like the men in my family that I despised and yet in my fantasies, they were none of that. But then again, it was just a fantasy. I thought that maybe if I knew them during the 60s, would have I overlooked that? Or hated them? My mind was racing over useless debates that I would never get to have any evidence to support. And still, I thought it over so carefully as my heavy eyes began to close. My sleep slowly taking over until I heard a horn blast.


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes shot open and my heart felt as though it was going to fly out of my chest. The sun pierced my eyes. How was it day? I saw a car pass by with a couple of young guys laughing and the driver shouting, "Oi love 'ard day gotcha down?" Before I could even comprehend what he was saying, they had driven off giggling and pointing at me. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck where the fuck am I? My mind was racing as I noticed I was siting with my legs spread out on the pavement. My head, I assumed, had been leaning against the brick wall making it seem I was passed out drunk on the sidewalk. I was so stunned that the next couple of seconds seemed blurry and every noise incoherent. Was I fucking kidnapped? The idea of being kidnapped made my stomach turn and limbs tingly. I didn't dare move from the spot I had awaken in. The tears began to build in my eyes and the lump in my throat was making its presence known. I carefully lifted my knees to my chest, my arms on them, and rested my head. My hyperventilating was becoming painful in my chest. The confusion making me want to scream. I closed my eyes. Okay Sarah, relax. Breathe. I sucked in the air and realized it was unbelievablely cold. But it's May.. I tried to gather my thoughts to make sense of my surroundings. I pulled enough courage to pick my head to look around myself some more. I hadn't noticed the people who had been walking passed me and even some crossing the street to the other sidewalk to avoid me. I must look insane right now. It didn't hit me that something else was off until one women made eye contact with me. Her outfit... I looked to my right. The cars and the people looked like they jumped off a page of book about the early 1960s. I put my head down and the urge to cry was coming back when I heard a young mans voice gently speak "Scuse' me miss? E'rything alright?" I looked up. George. A young handsome George. There he was, clear as day. He was sporting a thick grey coat and jeans from what I can make out because of the daze going on in my head. There's was a worried look on his face accompanied by a cigarette in his hand. Now I was getting nauseous. Nothing was making sense. I just wanted to be back home. "Please let me go home please I wanna go home." I whispered to myself, finally letting the tears spill. I rested my head back on my arms and let myself cry as hard as I wanted. I squeezed my eyes closed. "Sorry?" He said, which now sounded like it was much further away *Ding!* Again, my eyes shot open. My breathing was rough and my nerves on the edge. I sat up quickly to see I was in my bed again with the room slightly lit by phone that was lying next to my pillow. I put my hands to my face and rubbed. I'm going insane. I said aloud. I had spent time in a mental facultyfor depression and suicidal thoughts but nothing like this. I'm gonna go back there oh god maybe I should go back. My head was hurting from all of the awful anxiety that was rushing through me. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up and looked for melatonin to help me sleep. Please let me just sleep normally.. As I popped one of the pills into my mouth. While the medicine began to take its course, I picked up my phone. _12:45am._ Jesus Christ, I've been asleep only 10 minutes? I sighed and swiped away whatever twitter notification had gone off. I finally began to relax and my nerves were settling. Putting down the phone while I lied down, I thought to myself, George did look pretty good. I let out a soft chuckle before falling asleep. Was that really a dream? It all felt too real.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sorry?" Before even opening my eyes and lifting my head, I knew I was back. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! This felt too real! The frigid air hurting my bare arms and feet. The noises and sun beating down on me. Okay I know I can go home any moment now. If I just say it aloud. Before the words could get past my lips, his voice again was speaking to me. "Um do ya need any help?" He said a bit louder this time. He was still here staring at me with that worried look. Maybe I should just play along.. this could be an amazing dream or whatever the hell is happening. I lifted my head and looked up at him. "Uh I'm sorry. Just a really rough morning." I barely spoke. Jesus there he was. He was so darn adorable and sweet looking that I wanted to pass out. "Miss d'ya know how cold it is out 'ere? You 'aven't any socks or shoes on." Looking past my knees I saw how red my feet were becoming. The shock of everything was keeping me from noticing just how cold it really was. As soon as I saw my feet, the cold hit me. I began shivering and wanted so badly to run inside somewhere warm. "Oh yeah. It's a long story" I said trying to make up something as the words came out. He nodded slowly saying "Yer going to get sick. Maybe you should come inside?" Inside? I didn't say anything for a couple seconds thinking of what I should do. Should I wish to wake up and stay up the rest of the night? Take this opportunity to live out a fantasy? Sleeping right? I was asleep? "Hello?" He said. Before giving it any more thought, I pushed myself up off the ground and met his level. I smiled and slightly whispered, "Sure, I feel like I'm freezing to death." He gave a small smile and replied "a'right then." I hadn't seen that the small entrance to my right had a giant poster plastered next it that read **THE CAVERN**. My eyes widened and George took notice. "What's wrong?" I didn't know exactly what to say. "Nothing. Is this some sort of club?" I said lying through my teeth. As if I didn't know. "Oh yeah. Me band is playing 'ere during lunchtime. Thought I show up early to get a feel for the place." Oh my god. I was going to see The Beatles play at the cavern.

Walking in, there were a few teens standing about and some sitting at small tables drinking. I received the oddest looks. Stopping George, "I'm sorry but uh should I be in here? Like you said I don't even have socks or shoes on." He looked me up and down. I was wearing the pajamas I had fallen asleep in. "That is an interesting outfit you've got on." He laughed. "Sorry don't mean to be rude. I'm sure I'll find something to warm ya up in. I couldn't just leave ya outside to freeze." I smiled and looked down. Afraid my redden cheeks would show. We continued walking until we found an empty table to sit. "So yer American?" He said lighting up another cigarette and sat down. I frowned a bit, wishing he would put it out. "Yeah I'm from Texas." "Oh yeah? Like with all the cowboys and horses?" I giggled and rolled my eyes playfully, "Of course not. That's just a stereotype" "Ah okay I get it" he said blowing out smoke. We sat in awful awkward silence for what seemed to be hours but was surely only a minute or two. Working up the courage I finally spoke, "So you've got a band?" He lit up a bit. You could tell he enjoyed talking about it. "Yeah! We just got back from Hamburg. Bloody cops sent me back for bein' underage or something. Me other mates were sent back for setting fire to a condom on a club." He said laughing. I smiled and chuckled a bit. This was amazing. I was sitting across a young George Harrison, an almost nobody in the music world at the moment. These people around him don't know how lucky they are. "Oh god." He stood suddenly and walked over to my side. Taking off his coat and putting it on me "I'm so sorry. Here." Too stunned to move I let him wrap me up in the thick wool jacket. "Thank you." I said barely below a whisper. He started slipping off his shoes. "Oh no no you don't need to do that." He ignored my protests and put them near my feet. "Listen, I'm not gonna let you walk around with nothing." I looked down again at his feet. "I've got socks and now you've got shoes," he said with a smile. I shrugged and slid my feet in the warm shoes. Getting a tingle of comfort up my body, I thanked him again. He sat back down and we exchanged warm smiles. "George get off yer arse and 'elp us will ya?!" Our heads whipped to the side and saw Paul at the entrance carrying what looked like drum set pieces. George jumped up and looked at me, "I'll be back, don't go anywhere yeah?" We locked eyes. "Sure." He looked pleased. Looking back at Paul, I felt my palms sweat and my heart stop. Oh my goodness. He was gorgeous. He had that same slicked hair on the sideswith a curl resting on his forehead like George. His nose was red at the end of it along with the apples of his cheeks. George ran up to him taking whatever it was off his hands and talking. They glanced over at me a couple times, Paul looked down at George's feet and then looked at me with discontent. Okay now this wasn't as fun anymore.


End file.
